A Night At The Theatre
by bradp521
Summary: A historical "What if..." where Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle go to the theatre in April of 1865.
1. Chapter 1

Selina Kyle placed her wine glass down, and taking a deep breath, said, "Dinner was simply marvelous, Bruce."

Bruce smiled sheepishly and said, "I wish I could take the credit, but Alfred is the one who makes the magic in the kitchen."

Alfred began to clear the dishes away and said, "You are too kind, Master Bruce, but thank you. And Miss Kyle, I am pleased that you found the meal satisfactory."

"Satisfactory?" she said with a laugh. "That is something like saying there is a fair amount of water in the ocean."

"Alfred," said Bruce, "We'll be taking our drinks in the study. Will you bring me the item we discussed earlier?"

Alfred nodded and disappeared through the door. After placing the dirty dishes on the kitchen counter, he immediately went to a small wall safe in the master bedroom. Allowing himself a small smile, he withdrew a small, flat box, and then he returned to the study. There he found Bruce standing by the fireplace and Selina admiring the view of the nation's capitol from the window. He handed Bruce the small box and quietly slipped from the room.

"So tell me, Bruce, what is the secret you've been keeping so securely to yourself for the last two weeks?"

"There's actually two secrets, Selina," he replied. "First, the theatre tonight. It'll be a little different. I've been invited to bring a guest and join the President from his box for the performance."

"Oh, my," she replied, a little wide-eyed.. "Do you think they'd still extend the invitation if they knew your guest was a reformed jewel thief?"

He smiled. "Considering that she would be the guest of a former Pinkerton detective, I think they'd feel secure enough."

"A former Pinkerton who just happens to be a successful industrialist that is helping with the war effort., you mean."

He took a sip of his drink and said, "There's nothing so remarkable about that. Many are doing far more and at greater personal cost."

"Wealthy, handsome, and humble, too," she teased gently. "It's no wonder you're considered one of the nation's most eligible bachelors."

"Funny that you would mention that," he said. "That leads into the second secret." He picked up the box that Alfred had brought him and said, "I though you should have something special to wear for the occasion." With that, he opened the lid, and Selina gasped.

"Bruce?" she asked. "Are you sure? Aren't these…"

"My mother's pearls, yes."

"The ones I was trying to steal five years ago when you caught me and we met for the first time."

"The same."

A slightly confused expression crossed her face, and she said, "As I recall, you said quite clearly that this necklace had not been worn be anyone since your parents died, and that it wouldn't be until it was worn by someone who would be ….. ?" She paused, placed a hand on his arm, and looked at him questioningly.

Bruce set the box on the mantle of the fireplace, reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and removed a diamond ring. Getting down on one knee, he took her hand and said, "Someone who would be with me until death do us part. Selina Kyle, will you do me the honor of being my bride?"

"Oh, Bruce," she whispered softly. "Yes, gladly."

He slipped the ring on her finger, then he rose. Taking the necklace, he fastened it around her neck. Then he drew her to himself, holding her for a moment, until they were interrupted by a polite cough from the doorway.

"Begging your pardon, Master Bruce and Miss Kyle, but the carriage is at the door awaiting you," Alfred said.

"Thank you, Alfred, will you get our wraps?" replied Bruce, not taking his eyes off the woman in his arms.

Alfred nodded and disappeared as Selina rested her head against Bruce's shoulder.

"As if I'll be able to pay any attention to the play after this," she sighed softly.

He smiled, and said, "But how often does a man get to introduce his fiancée to the President of the United States."

"I like the sound of that," she said with a smile. "'Introduce his fiancée.'"

With that, Alfred returned with their coats, and as Bruce helped Selina with hers, she said, "Tell me about this play again."

"It's a comedy, if I recall correctly," he answered. "I believe the name is 'Our American Cousin'".....

* * * * * * * *

Earlier that afternoon, before Selina and Bruce had dinner, two others had been sitting in the dimly-lit parlor of a boarding house on the outskirts of the city. A narrow shaft of light that escaped the drawn curtains fell upon the younger and more sharply dressed of the two as he was intently reading a sheet of paper given to him by his companion.

"Well, Mr. Booth," the second man finally asked, "Is it as I promised?"

"Certainly, Mr. Smith," replied Booth. "I cannot imagine how you were able to learn when they planned to rotate the President's guard."

"That was easy enough," Smith replied. "There are plenty of people, even in the North, who have no love for the President. They don't want to see the African flood sweeping their cities because of this 'emancipation' nonsense."

John Wilkes Booth looked at the sheet one final time before folding it and slipping it into his pocket. "I would like to ask one thing, though. Why are you doing this now? Lee has surrendered and the Confederacy is lost. Why didn't you do this a year ago or more, when we could've rushed upon the headless beast and won our freedom?"

"My reasons are my own," answered Smith slowly. Leaning forward, he said, "All you need to know is that I'm the one who found you after you and your band of fools failed to succeed even with a simple kidnapping. I'm the one who showed you that you could do something truly grand and that you didn't need those other idiots around to get in the way. I'm the one who has provided you with what you need to carry this off."

By now his face was mere inches away from Booth's, and he finished, almost hissing, "Now, do you have any more questions?"

Booth stood quickly and said, "No, Mr. Smith, none at all. Please forgive me if I offended you." He moved to the doorway, turned again to his companion, and said, "You are a true patriot, sir. Long live the Confederacy!" With that, he left.

Smith stood at the window and watched the actor walk swiftly down the street before returning to his room.

"Ah, yes, the Confederacy! As if I really cared about who won their little war," he muttered as he removed his jacket and loosened his collar.

"The war was a thing of beauty, though. Brother against brother, the murder and mayhem, blood running in the streets. Now THAT was lovely, not like this 'peace' they seem to think they've won."

He poured a basin of water and began vigorously washing his face and hands as he continued talking to himself.

"I say that if we can't have the chaos of war, at least we can shake up the peace a bit, and at the heart of it all, little old me!"

He laughed and began to towel his face dry, saying, "I wonder if he really thinks I care one way or another about the darkies."

He placed the towel over the edge of the sink next to the washrag which was now covered with flesh-colored smears. Ripping a brown theatrical wig off his head, he stared into the mirror at his ghostly white image, topped with an unruly green head of hair, and said, "After all, compared to me, they're ALL darkies!" And with that, he let loose with a laugh that filled the room and echoed into the hallway.

* * * * * * * *

A uniformed military aide ushered Bruce and Selina into a sitting room, where they were presently joined by the President. Shaking Bruce's hand, he said, "Good evening, Bruce. Mrs. Lincoln will be joining us shortly. I'm so glad that you and your companion could join us."

Turning to Selina, he bowed slightly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Kyle."

Selina curtsied, replying, "The honor is mine, Mr. President."

"Bruce has told me so much about you," Lincoln said. "Indeed, it is my hope that our nation as a whole will experience the change and restoration that you have seen in your own life."

Selina's cheeks flushed red and said, "Thank you for your kind words. To be truthful, when Bruce told me about this evening's plans, I was surprised that one like myself would be welcome in such company."

"The fruits of redemption will always be welcome in my home," replied the President.

Blushing deeper still and seeking to change the subject, Selina asked, "Mr. President, Bruce tells me that you have known each other for only a few years."

"Very true," said Lincoln, "although the war has made the passage of years seem so much longer. Bruce was a member of the Pinkerton detail which uncovered a plot against my life while I was traveling to Washington for my first inaugural. I'm told that he was the primary mole in the assassins' inner circle."

Turning toward Bruce, he said, "As I have said before, I owe him my life, and my friendship is his for as long as he wishes."

Looking a bit uncomfortable at the attention, Bruce simply said, "It was a privilege to serve my country. There are many who would do no less."

"He left the agency to take over the family business a short while later," Lincoln said, turning back to Selina, "but I'm not sure anybody other than Allan Pinkerton himself has the natural gift for detective work that he displayed."

At this point, Mrs. Lincoln entered the room. Introductions were made and the foursome left for the theatre.

* * * * * * * *

Booth sat in a tavern across the street, watching as the President's carriage pulled up in front of the theatre. His eyes narrowed as he took another sip of his drink.

"Soon," he thought to himself. "If Mr. Smith's information is as good as he claims, we'll be rid of you before the night's out, tyrant." He then turned back to his table, consulted his pocket watch, and waited.


	2. Chapter 2

As the first act ended, the audience stirred and began conversing among themselves. In their bunting-decked box, the President and Bruce began to talk about some of the plans for the reconstruction of the South. It only took a moment before Mrs. Lincoln leaned toward Selina and said, "I think I'll get a bit of air while the men discuss policy matters. Will you accompany me?"

Selina gave Bruce a quick squeeze of her hand before rising and joining the First Lady. As they reached the street, Mrs. Lincoln said, "I must say, dear, you appear to be quite the tonic for Mr. Wayne. He's joined us on other occasions, and he always seems a bit ill at ease in large gatherings. I wouldn't say he seems altogether comfortable tonight, but he does seem less restless than usual."

Selina smiled and said, "It's kind of you to say that. I don't know if he would ever be comfortable in a crowd, though. Some wounds don't ever heal completely."

Mrs. Lincoln cocked her head, a puzzled look on her face, and replied, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Did you know that his parents were killed when he was quite young?" Selina asked quietly.

"I knew he lost them at an early age, but I didn't realize they had been killed," answered Mrs. Lincoln. "How terrible!"

Selina nodded and added, "Dr. Wayne was speaking at an anti-slavery rally when somebody in the crowd shot him. When Mrs. Wayne ran to her husband's side, she was shot as well."

"Poor Bruce," murmured the First Lady. "Where was he when this happened?"

A tear came to Selina's eye as she answered, "In the front row. When the shooting started, a local pastor's wife took him to safety, but he had already seen the worst of it."

Mrs. Lincoln shook her head sadly, and asked, "Was the murderer ever caught?"

"No," said Selina. "I believe that was his strongest reason for joining the Pinkerton's. The idea that nobody should ever do such an evil thing and go unpunished is one of his great passions to this day."

They stood quietly for a moment before returning inside to their seats.

* * * * * * * *

As the second act gave way to the third, Mrs. Lincoln turned to Bruce and said, "How are you liking the play, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce had, in fact, spent more time looking across the theatre at the audience and at their surroundings in the presidential box than he had at the play itself. Hoping that his distraction had not been noticed, and he simply smiled and said, "The play is fine, Mrs. Lincoln." With a soft squeeze of Selina's hand, he added, "As is the company."

Bruce forcibly turned his attention to the stage as the actors moved into the next scene, but before long, he was again distracted by the uncomfortably large gathering. As he was glancing about the Presidential box in one of these moments, he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. The door in the back of the box began to open and instead of their guard, Bruce saw a stranger with pistol in hand.

Bruce quickly jumped from his seat and leapt toward the unknown assailant. The man's pistol went off just as Bruce grabbed his arm. He swiftly disarmed the man amidst Mrs. Lincoln's screams.

"Selina," he barked, "is the President….-"

"He's fine," she said. "The bullet just creased him." Taking her handkerchief, she wiped the blood from the President's temple as Mrs. Lincoln held him.

The sound of the shot triggered a stampede of men up into the President's box, where Bruce had the gunman pinned against the wall.

Fixing the man with an icy stare, Bruce hissed, "Who are you?"

Instead of answering him, the man simply said, "Sic semper tyrannis!"

As a doctor stepped into the box to tend to the President, Bruce dragged the gunman into the hallway. At this point, the theatre manager came up and exclaimed, "My god, John, what have you done, man?"

"What any true patriot should have done," growled the would-be assassin.

Without loosening his grip, Bruce turned to the manager and asked, "You know how this man is?"

"Yes, that's John Wilkes Booth, the actor," replied the manager. "He played here just last month."

Bruce turned Booth over to two soldiers who roughly pulled the man's arms behind him.

"Get him out of here," Bruce ordered, and added to the manager, "You'd best go along with them, too. They'll want some information about this blackguard." Then he went back into the Presidential Box. He found President Lincoln lying on the sofa, his head in his wife's lap, but alert and speaking with the doctor.

Seeing Bruce, Lincoln said, "Well, my friend, it appears I owe you my life once again.

Seems the reflexes you had as a Pinkerton haven't dimmed, have they?"

Before Bruce replied, the doctor began asking the President some more questions. Bruce moved off to the side to let him do his work, and Selina, who had stepped out of the way when the doctor arrived, moved quickly to his side.

"Who was he?" she asked.

"An actor," Bruce said,. "John Wilkes Booth."

"Thank God you saw him before he was able to take a fatal shot," she murmured. Reaching down to take his hand in hers, she found both hands clenched in tight fists.

"Relax, Bruce," she whispered. "You caught the man who did this, and nobody was killed."

"Yet," he replied, even as he allowed her fingers to pull open his fists. "Until we know with certainty that Booth acted alone, we can't assume that the President will be safe."

* * * * * * * *

Mr. Smith wore a long coat as he watched the crowd pouring out of the theatre, but unlike others on the street, did not rush forward to see what the commotion was about.

He raised his eyebrows at the sight of the soldiers leading Booth from the theatre. As the actor yelled, "Long live the Confederacy!", the soldiers lifted him onto a horse and led their prisoner down the street.

As Booth passed by, Smith stepped back into the shadows to avoid being seen. Turning back toward the theatre, he watched as the President and First Lady, and two companions were escorted to a waiting carriage.

Walking slowly down the street in the opposite direction, Mr. Smith muttered to himself, "That's the problem with actors. They only know how to pretend to do things." With that he began laughing, drawing looks from the passersby who quickly moved out of his way.


End file.
